So, these past two months have been rather busy.
I've just finished four weeks in emergency medicine. Which i liked just as much as i had hoped i would. It feels great to have a goal again. Not that it will come as a great surprise to anyone who knows me that i'd love to work in a small-town emergency department. And I'm now happily parked in a hospital dormitory in Shawville, where i will hopefully get to try out the small-town part of that plan.
I was working in a non-trauma hospital emergency department on the day of the shooting at Dawson college. There was much excitement and bustling about, and preparations for an onslaught of injured patients which (fortunately) never materialized. The emergency department was quickly emptied of it's usual inhabitants, and the team preparing for the crisis was dressed up in crisis gear and awaiting ambulances. One fellow was left - on his stretcher and in a johnny shirt, and began gesticulating wildly at me. Since i was one of the few unoccupied medical-looking people I met his eyes, and he waved, yelling "excuse me! excuse me!". I rushed over and asked if i could help, and he looked at me intently and asked: "Are you a boy, or a girl?"
Are you for fucking real? i'm thinking in-my-head-with-my-mouth-closed. "I'm busy, but call me back if you need anything" I said out loud.
My other great gendered moment this month with the was on a trip MamaM, LitteE and i took to ottawa for a night off. We were having breakfast in the hotel restaurant, and LittleE was offering his magnetic smile to all the staff (which often scores him free food when we're out). One of the servers came over and told us what a cute little boy we have. We thanked her, and then she got all flustered in that way that people do when they fear they have mislabeled someone's gender. She apologised, and asked if he was 'really' a boy. We assured her that he is, indeed, a boy (for now). And besides, he is only 18 months old and it's never obvious at that age. She looked at us as if we were in on a secret and said "you never can tell these days." Then she turned to LittleE and said "You want to get some more fruit from your daddy??" I just grinned into my coffee and offered the kid more "ah-puhll, ya."
(I really can't take all the credit for my kid's fruity-ness. . . Nature or nurture, he's getting it from *all* sides)
Labels: medskool, parenting, queer
